


Hank Anderson's Guide To Connor's Emotions

by Sianna_the_fanartist



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Awesome Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor-centric, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, I just wanted to write something short and fluffy :), Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 02:32:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18174671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sianna_the_fanartist/pseuds/Sianna_the_fanartist
Summary: Connor is notoriously bad at expressing his emotions in a way that makes sense to other people. Of course, Connor doesn't see the need to have anyone but Hank understand him, which, of course, makes making friends kind of hard. Good thing Hank is here to save the day!





	Hank Anderson's Guide To Connor's Emotions

They were sitting on the couch in Hank’s living room when the topic was broached.

“Hey, Connor. Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda hard to read?”

Connor blinked in surprise and looked up from the (very important) activity of scratching Sumo behind the ears.

“No,” he answered, puzzled.

“Well, you are.”

“Okay.” And he went back to scratching Sumo’s ears. The Saint Bernard was in doggy heaven.

“Seriously, though. If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I’d think you were mad at me,” Hank continued stubbornly, refusing to let Connor out of the conversation.

It did catch Connor’s attention, that much was true. “Why would I be mad at you?”

Hank just gestured vaguely. “You know, you’re all...quiet, and shit, and you’re not looking at me.”

“I’m perfectly content, though,” Connor said, brow wrinkling. “It’s a nice day outside, and I am enjoying your company thoroughly. I like spending time with you.”

“I know. It’s why I know you’re not mad at me: you’re just like that.” Hank adjusted himself in his seat, reaching out to ruffle Connor’s hair with a hand slightly covered in Cheeto dust. Connor bore it reluctantly. “Although, I bet your android buddies get very confused a lot of the time.”

“Yes, they do,” Connor said, reaching up to remove Hank’s hand from his hair. “They assume what I am feeling without consulting me much of the time, resulting in a view of me that is… unfortunate.”

“I should make a cheat sheet, or something. ‘Hank Anderson’s guide to Understanding Connor,’ or some shit like that. Hand it out to all your friends! Great idea, dontcha think?” Hank grinned and nudged Connor in the ribs.

“If I didn’t know you better, I would think that was a sincere attempt to help me get along with people better,” Connor deadpanned. Hank just laughed.

“See, that’s Mood One. Snark,” he said, still grinning. “Mood Two is… Neutral. Mood Three is fuckin uhhhhhh, righteous anger, and Mood Four is awkward sincerity!”

“No, stop. You’re right and I don’t like that,” Connor said, voice completely devoid of energy of emotion. It sent Hank into another fit of laughter.

“You know what? I think it’s a great idea.”

“You know what? I don’t.”

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm—nah, it’s a great idea, I’m doing it.”

“Please don’t.”

Hank’s laughter echoed around the house, filling all the nooks and crannies left empty so few years ago.

——————————————————————————————————————————

_Hank Anderson’s Guide to Connor’s Emotions:_

_Mood One: Snark. Connor’s a snarky sonofabitch, and it means one of two things. Blue LED snark means he likes you. It’s how he shows affection. Yellow LED snark means he either doesn’t like you or is just cranky. Leave him alone._

_Mood Two: Neutral. Believe it or not, neutral doesn’t always mean neutral with Connor. He could be content, or focused, or sad, or guilty. If you’re unsure, ask. And you’ve gotta be really fucking specific. Straight up ask him, “What emotion are you feeling?” and only then will he give you a proper answer, the weaselly fucker._

_Mood Three: Righteous Anger. Back stiff and ramrod straight, face blank, yellow LED. Polite, like overbearingly polite. If you’ve got an official title, he will use it. And I mean it about the polite thing: the more angry, the more polite, like, “With all due respect, sir,” or “Really, sir, I think you’re misunderstanding the situation,” or “Excuse me, sir,” or god forbid, “Terribly sorry to interrupt sir, but…” Seriously. He’s painfully polite._

_Mood Four: Awkward Sincerity. I like to think of this one as Trying His Best. He’s socially awkward at best, standoffish at worst. If he’s trying to express himself, or give genuine advice, don’t make fun of him! He can and will take it personally, and it’s a bitch to coax him back out of his shell._

_And that concludes Hank Anderson’s Guide to Connor’s Emotions. Contact Lieutenant Hank Anderson if you have any further questions. And keep this in mind: if you hurt Connor’s feelings, I will find you, and I will make you regret it. No matter who you are. And that means you too, Markus. I don’t care if you’re robot Jesus._

Markus lowered the laminated piece of paper and handed it to North for her to read. He couldn’t quite stifle a few snickers, mainly at the copious profanity and partially at the existence of such a document in the first place.

“Got it, tin can?” the author of the document rumbled, crossing his arms.

“Got it, Lieutenant,” Markus responded, snapping off a playful salute. North beside him started to shake with laughter.

“Hank? I’m ready to go— oh no,” Connor broke off. He’d walked up after retrieving a charging station from New Jericho, sorely needed. “Hank, you didn’t.”

“I think you’ll find that I did,” Hank said, grinning.

“Lieutenant,” Connor said, stiff. His posture snapped upright, hands firmly by his sides. His tone was painfully polite. “With all due respect, I—”

He was cut off by the wheezing laughter of Markus and North, and the deep chuckles of Hank. Somehow, he got even stiffer, wiping his face of all emotion. His LED blinked yellow, and a blue tinted blush was beginning to spread across his cheeks and on the tips of his ears. All of this served only to make them laugh harder.

“ _Lieutenant_.”

“All right, all right,” Hank chuckled, waving a hand. “We gotta go, now. But make sure you study that paper. It will be on the test!”

“There’s a test?” Markus said, still smiling.

“Let’s go, Hank! Bye Markus, bye North!” Connor said hastily, grabbing Hank’s arm and ushering him to the car. His friends’ laughter followed him all the way, worsening his blush.

He had to admit, though, it did make him feel nice to know that his best friend knew him so well. Not that he would admit that.


End file.
